Altered Egos
by schemingface
Summary: In the city of light, a lot can happen between slow dances, akumatized villains on the loose, and getting tied to the Eiffel Tower with a particularly flirty partner in crime.
1. Chapter 1

NORMALLY, MARINETTE DUPEIN CHENG liked to think she wasn't as clumsy as she thought she was.

But after nearly getting run over by a truck, tripping over a crack in the sidewalk, and getting about _thisclose_ to hospitalizing an old woman crossing the street, Marinette finally had to come to the conclusion that her clumsiness was most likely a phenomenon all on its own.

"It's official," she told Alya as she staggered forward in her thick three-inch heels, one arm clutched tight against her best friend's side. "I'm the queen of clumsiness."

Alya only laughed, steering her away from sticking her foot in the wrong direction and ending up in the middle of traffic again. "I can't argue with that. You being in those heels is a hazard to everyone within a five-foot range."

Marinette glared down at her blue pumps. She was never really graceful to begin with, but at least her pink flats were comfortable. These pair of monstrosities on her feet, though? They were really testing her patience.

"It's not my fault that the ground just hates me and the walls always seem to get in the way," she said stubbornly. For a brief moment, she contemplated stashing the offending footwear in a nearby shrubbery and walking to school barefooted, but since they were borrowed from Alya and she would probably end up getting her toes massacred along the way, she dismissed the idea. Besides, she had to admit, albeit begrudgingly, that they matched the blue dress she was wearing and made her whole outfit seem all the more sophisticated.

Alya patted Marinette's arm as they rounded a corner. "Don't stress over it, girl. Just try to remember what I taught you — heel down first, and then your toe. Once the dance has started, I'm sure you'll forget all about trying not to topple over."

"Easy for you to say," Marinette grumbled with a pointed look. The redhead simply oozed confidence in her deep maroon dress and spiky heels — which, by the way, she walked in as if she were floating.

But as their school steps loomed into view, a notch of unease began to form in the pit of Marinette's stomach for an entirely different reason. She gulped loudly.

The annual spring fling wasn't obligatory to attend, but ever since she heard Adrien was also going, she'd dragged Alya over to her house and nearly combusted in her excitement to create her very own, very blue costume, complete with a bedazzled neckline and a soft hem trimmed in tulle.

Now, though, she felt silly. She picked at the azure hem of her dress. All the other girls, including Alya, had bought their outfits at one of Paris's many boutiques, while she stuck out like a proverbial sore thumb and her dress would probably become a laughing stock the minute her presence became apparent and then Adrien wouldn't look twice at her and dance all night with Chloè or Lila instead of her and and and —

"Marinette," Alya said in exasperation. "Will you stop looking so twitchy? I know what you're thinking, and you have to stop right this minute." To emphasize her point, she jabbed a finger at Marinette's chest. "You look great and your dress is one of a kind. All you need is some confidence, all right? You're going to slay."

Marinette jerked her head up and down, inhaling a deep breath through her mouth until her face was big enough to resemble a chipmunk. Confidence. Yep. She could do that, right? She just needed confidence. Like Chat Noir.

Thinking about him made her attention go to the little pouch she had disguised as a purse by her side. She'd tucked Tikki inside of it comfortably enough, but she was hoping this evening wouldn't warrant any akumatized villains. It was bad enough that she had worked this hard to get her entire costume assembled — she didn't want one of Hawkmoth's victims ruining her chance to get a dance with Adrien.

She sighed dreamily as his face swam to the surface of her memory.

Alya's eyes rolled skyward. "Are you done overthinking everything?"

Marinette bobbed her head. "Right. Of course!" she cleared her throat as if she hadn't been having a creepy fantasy about the cutest guy in all of Paris just three seconds ago. It was, however, in vain. No matter how hard she tried, she knew her face was practically an open book with her emotions laid out for everyone to pick apart bit by bit at the seams. Unlike Alya, whose poker face was both infuriatingly impressive and unwavering, Marinette couldn't disguise her emotions even if her life depended on it.

It was at times like these she wished her alter ego was her true identity, and that the girl who couldn't even navigate across a street without having at least three angry horns blasted at her could just disappear, tucked into a small pocket and forgotten forever.

Still, she stuck out her arms by her side, fisted her hands, and followed Alya up the steps with her resolve starting to build back up. She couldn't let her crazy doubts empower her. She could do this. She could strut into the school's gym, flip her hair like Chloè, and march up to Adrien Agreste to ask for a dan —

With a yelp, she found one of her heels missing a step, and before she could find her balance, she was already falling backward, arms flailing wildly, a scream lodged in her throat.

As she proceeded to teeter over the edge, she began to wonder what exactly heels were even invented for other than causing her awkwardness to amplify.

.

.

 **This is something I'm working on because I feel like writing something that's utterly candy-coated to the point where your teeth ache with cavities at all the sweetness.**

 **So, yeah. The rest of the chapters are probs going to be much longer. Let me know what you tthink, though, bc I'm trying not to let the characters be too OOC! This is also posted on my Wattpad account, plushteddies**

 **Also, just curious about which ship you guys like:**

 **Marinette • Adrien**

 **Marinette • Chat Noir**

 **Ladybug • Adrien**

 **Ladybug • Chat Noir**


	2. Chapter 2

BEFORE MARINETTE COULD HIT the ground, she felt a strong pair of arms wrapping around her waist, steadily hoisting her back up until she wasn't in any imminent danger of eating a face-full of concrete.

"You okay?"

Her eyes had been squeezed shut in anticipation of the fall, but hearing that familiar voice immediately made them snap back open. Her heartbeat went into overdrive when a pair of green eyes stared back at her in concern.

"I — uh — fall?" she sputtered helplessly, her eyes unwilling to look away from none other than Adrien Agreste's gaze. Her mouth went dry at the realization of how close her face was pressed against his chest and the way his arms were still looped around her.

If she really wanted to, all she needed to do was tilt her head back, then roll up onto her toes, and she would practically be kissing him on the spot.

She was pretty sure a trickle of drool was making its way out of the corner of her mouth, but luckily, he stepped back once her heel-clad feet were stable enough to stand.

"That was a close one," he said, laughing a little. "Crazy high heels, huh?"

Marinette managed to honk out an awkward laugh as she smoothed down the front of her dress. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Alya shooting her a sly grin and a quick thumbs up before she disappeared up the rest of the stairs, bright hair snapping behind her in the breeze.

"Heels are just so complicated," Marinette said at last, giving herself a mental pat on the back for not stumbling over the words.

Adrien nodded, a smile brightening up his face. "If you want, I can help you walk up the rest of the way. It's no biggie."

Marinette's face split into what she hoped wasn't a creepy I-will-go-wherever-you-take-me grin as she straightened her back, accepting the arm Adrien offered her.

As they neared the front doors, she made an attempt to follow through with what Alya said — heels first, and then toes? Or, wait, was it toes first? — while subtly trying to get a whiff of Adrien's jacket. He smelled like clean laundry detergent and something pleasantly expensive; a hint of cologne that almost made her knees buckle. She leaned in closer, wishing she could bottle up the intoxicating scent forever and keep it in her room with all her other Adrien-related items.

In a completely non-creepy way, of course.

"Are... are you sniffing me?" Adrien asked, his head jerking to the side to look down at her in surprise.

Caught red-handed, she froze. She snatched her arm away from him, locking them behind her back. "Ah, ha, sniff? No, of course not! I was... um..." she twisted around, desperately searching for something to distract him with until her eyes located Nino bounding up in their direction.

"Hey, Nino!" she said with all the enthusiasm she could muster. "It's great to see you!"

He gave her a strange look as he made his way towards them, his DJ kit tucked under one arm at an uncomfortable looking angle. "Hey, guys. What's up?"

He and Adrien started to do their complicated fist-bump-slash-handshake greeting. Taking this as her only chance to make a quick getaway, Marinette wobbled up the last two steps and staggered inside the school. She didn't look back and continued weaving her way through the pack of bodies swarming by the entryway until she reached the auditorium.

On impulse, she made sure there wasn't anything embarrassing sticking onto her clothes, inhaled a deep breath through her nose, and strode inside the darkened room. There were balloons bobbing against the ceiling everywhere she looked, and streamers exploding with pink colours — courtesy of Chloè's bad taste in party decor, of course — dangled between them. The disco ball was already spinning, spilling flashy blots of silver lights all across the rapidly increasing body of students. The music had yet to be turned on, since Nino was in charge of being the DJ for the night.

Stealing another cursory glance over her shoulder, Marinette hurried toward Alya, who was craning her neck around the room with her cellphone held out at arms length.

"Do you think Ladybug might show up, Mar?"

 _I sure hope she doesn't have to,_ she thought silently before giving an indifferent shrug.

"She better. I want to — oh, hey, did you score any points with lover boy on the stairs yet?"

"Nope," Marinette replied. "He caught me sniffing him."

For a moment, her best friend only stared at her. Then, realizing that her leg wasn't being pulled, erupted into a peal of laughter, nearly collapsing against the table of appetizers and falling into a bowl overflowing with punch.

"You know what?" she said in-between fits of giggles, "I should make a documentary about your entire life! You could get internet famous, don't you think?"

Marinette only gave a small eye roll. "Very funny. You should be a comedian."

Her laugher barely subsided. "Honestly, couldn't you have complimented him instead? Like a normal person?"

"Compliment him? He's a model, Alya!" Marinettes arms flapped through the air as she tried to make her point. "He probably gets a hundred compliments every day. I just want to have a normal conversation with him without spewing awkward things."

"Well, you better think of something to talk to him about. He's just entered and already getting manhandled by Chloè."

Marinette's focus snapped toward the entrance again. Chloe, looking perfectly put together and glamorous in a lemon-yellow dress as ever, was looping her arm around Adrien's and chatting up a storm with him while leading him further into the room.

Marinette groaned. "I knew I shouldn't have come."

"Nope," Alya said, pulling Marinette back before she could retreat. "I'm not going to let you beat yourself over one guy. You worked hard on your outfit, and now you're going to have some fun, with or without lover boy."

Slowly, Marinette found herself nodding, the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach dissipating. Alya was right. She had poured her whole heart into making her outfit as innovative as possible, and she couldn't allow herself to become hysterical.

"Lead the way," she said at last, managing a small smile. She followed behind Alya just as Nino started up the pounding music.

"Don't stab someone with your heels," Alya quipped, dancing out of harms way. "Or get punch on your dress."

Marinette could feel the beat vibrating all the way from her toes to the tips of her fingers. Still unsteady on her heels, she shuffled forward in time to the beat, feeling a laugh bubbling up from her chest as Alya began doing a number of complicated dance moves with her arms wildly arcing in the air.

"You look like a deranged disco queen, Al."

"Can't hear you!" Alya shouted over the bass. With a wide grin, she did an elaborate twirl, steadily maneuvering her elbows away from those holding cups containing punch.

Marinette gingerly took another step, followed by another, until she decided that she had finally come to terms with her heeled feet. Feeling compelled to join in with her best friend's overly exaggerated whirling, she let her shoulders relax and swayed along to the music, weaving through the writhing mass of bodies in her haste to keep up with Alya.

It didn't come off as a surprise when her gracefulness only lasted about five minutes.

She'd managed to keep up with Alya this far, but now her eyes darted around the room nervously when she realized she'd unknowingly ended up right in the center, the colourful strobes of light stabbing almost painfully at her eyes. There were kids starting to pair off already.

To her left, she could make out Chloè lugging Adrien all across the overly shiny floor with what she supposed was her signature death grip.

Marinette bristled at the sight, suppressing the urge to march over there and sink the hilt of her heel into Chloè's infuriatingly smug face.

She stood her ground, though, hands balling into fists as the techno beat decidedly shifted into a slow song. Mentally, she chanted a soothing mantra:

Must.

Suppress.

Homicidal.

Tendencies.

There. Now she just needed to get further back in order to push away the image of Chloè snatching her future husband.

"Let's see if there's anything to eat at the refreshment table," she muttered to herself. She spun around, accidentally ramming an elbow into a girl's face in the process.

"Sorry!" she squeaked. She made to move forward, but only ended up slamming her shoulder against someone else's side. Another apology slipped past her lips. Within taking ten steps towards the refreshment table, she had angered more than five people by ramming at least some part of her body against theirs, and she tried not to wince when she felt their skewering glares bouncing off her back. In a nutshell, this dance was really not meant for someone as gawky and ill-coordinated as her.

With her heels stabbing at the ground, Marinette hurried to the table of appetizers, loading a whole pile of powdered beignets into her arms. If she was going to be stranded in a room full of sweaty bodies and ear-deafening music, then she might as well keep her hunger sated. Besides, growing up with a father who owned a bakery had given her a sweet-tooth that had uncontrollable urges.

Cramming a whole beignet into her mouth, she made sure no one was looking before lifting the side of the floor-length tablecloth and ducking underneath it. The music sounded almost muffled in here, and even though the space was a bit narrow, a sigh of relief escaped her almost immediately. She kicked off her heels and shoved them to the side.

"Thwese are heavenly," she mumbled around a mouthful of fried dough. She glanced down at Tikki, who had popped her head out from her small purse.

"Aren't you going to go back out there?"

Marinette licked a powdery finger. "What would be the point, Tikki? I don't think dances are really my thing, anyway."

"Don't be so sure! The night is still young, isn't it?"

Marinette shrugged, popping in another bite to avoid answering her Kwami.

Tikki shook her head. "You worked so hard on your dress."

"It doesn't matter. I'll probably find a better use for it some other time."

She was just about to receive another response from Tikki when they both heard the shuffling of feet close by.

Marinette pried her purse open, hissing, "Hide, Tikki!"

The Kwami's head disappeared from view in the span of two seconds, and Marinette hastily zipped the tiny purse up in time to see a hand lifting up the bottom of the tablecloth.

Her mouth opened to protest, but shut closed when the figure ducked inside without warning, landing right next to her bare feet.

She stared at Adrien with a slack jaw, almost choking on her powdery bite of doughnut.

He gave a nervous glance over his shoulder, then breathed out a sigh of relief. He didn't seem to notice Marinette curled up with her chin tucked against her knees until she made a horrifyingly squeaky noise.

His eyes widened when they met hers. "Woah! Sorry. I didn't know anyone else would be here." He looked over his shoulder once more as a sheepish look crossed his features. "I'm trying to hide from Chloè. She's kind of, um, overbearing."

Marinette blinked, furiously trying to force her mouthful of beignets down. "Huwwo," she managed to get out with a dorky little wave before swallowing the powdery dessert in one large gulp. She licked her lips and swiped around her mouth, praying she didn't have any of the residue on her face.

This was her second time being this close to him today, but she didn't know whether to feel giddy or mortified enough to dig a hole for herself. Given the current circumstances, the latter seemed more like the appropriate reaction.

She lowered her knees, revealing the remaining pile of beignets that she had collected in her lap.

Adrien abruptly dissolved into that cute, boyish laughter of his when she tentatively offered him one, having no idea of what else to do. He accepted it and took a huge bite, finishing it off in a couple of seconds without a second thought.

Marinette began to wonder why Adrien eating a stupid doughnut was so attractive.

Then she wondered if the fried dough had fried her own brain as well.

"So, why are you underneath the table? Are you hiding from someone too?"

Marinette bunched up her shoulders into a shrug, almost baffled at the prospect of having a conversation (of sorts) with Adrien under a table with no more than an inch keeping their legs from grazing against each other.

"I, yeah. I guess. I just don't think dances are my kind of thing." She tried laughing it off. "I'm really clumsy, if you haven't noticed."

He rubbed the back of his neck, as if unsure how to proceed, but a small smile still flitted over his face. "Not really, unless you're counting the dress."

"You... you noticed my dress?"

"Sure. Did you make it yourself?"

By this point, Marinette was so flustered she didn't know what to say, only managing to open her mouth and sputtering out unintelligible words. "Oh, um. Dress. Yes. Blue."

He stared at her.

"Blue. Dress is mine blue! I made it!"

"Oh. well. Either way, it looks great." Now it seemed to be his turn to look a bit flustered. He glanced away, pretending to dust off white powder from his clothes.

Marinette's only form of acknowledgment consisted of a mere bop of her head.

She almost laughed — it was unbelievable how awkward they were. She didn't know what to make of it, which made her all the more frustrated. _If it was Chat Noir,_ she found herself musing, _he'd never be like this._ In fact, the word _awkward_ probably wouldn't even _be_ in his vocabulary.

They started to eat in silence, and when only one beignet remained, he halved it, giving her the larger piece.

He tossed his bite into his mouth before leaning back, letting a lock of golden hair bounce against his forehead. "I guess one thing we have in common is our sweet tooth, huh?"

She nodded absently, too busy staring at him to come up with something coherent. An internal tug of war occupied her mind for a brief moment — grow some sense and ask him for a dance, or continue carrying on a nonsensical conversation that made her want to gouge her eyes out?

She nearly grunted with annoyance. Of all the boys she could've had a crush on, it just _had_ to be the most unattainable boy to ever exist. If only he hadn't given her his stupid umbrella that first day, and if _only_ he hadn't been so unbelievably nice, and if only he didn't look so attractive in a tuxedo that she wanted to rip it off completely and —

She shook her head. Nope. Creepy Marinette would not exist anymore. She would, for once, become level-headed. Cool as a cucumber. Totally in control.

Flicking her eyes over to him, she made sure to hold his gaze as she said, "So I was wondering if, well, you know. You would like to dance? With me? If you want, I mean."

Holding her breath, she waited for him to speak, to belt out an excuse as to why exactly he couldn't sacrifice a few minutes of waltzing around with her while she unceremoniously stepped on his toes from time to time, but a loud crash startled them enough to crawl out from beneath the table.

Standing upright and dusting off the front of her dress, Marinette realized that the whole room was suddenly being blanketed in darkness. Starting from the front of the room, lights were flickering off one by one as people were overtaken by panic, including Chloè, who resorted to screaming up at the ceiling, demanding that someone immediately come and explain to her what was happening.

"Ridiculous," Marinette could hear her over the roar of panic-stricken kids, "utterly ridiculous!"

"Why is everyone so freaked out?" Adrien asked, but Marinette could only give a confused shrug as she surveyed the room in search of Alya.

The music had long since tuned out, but lights were still popping out. She could make out the sound of sparks and wires being fried from above, and she immediately started backing away, already wracking her brain for an excuse to tell Adrien.

He seemed to be doing the same thing, though, taking several steps towards the exit with new-found determination taking over his features. Before he turned around completely, he glanced over at Marinette.

"I have to go to the bathroom really bad. Must be something in those beignets," he told her with a small laugh. "But about that dance? I'll take a rain-check on it if you don't mind."

Without another word, he disappeared between the throng of students. Marinette stood there, dazed, and she would've done so all night, trying to remember her name, but then the lights above her head gave out. The entire room was suddenly encased in pitch-black darkness.

She spun on her bare feet and bounded across the length of the room, opting for the corner between the girls' restrooms.

"Tikki, spots on!"

.

.

 **I know this was a bit uneventuful haha. I jus** t **want my kitty cat to show up already.**


	3. Chapter 3

MARINETTE RACED OUT ONTO the dance floor as soon as she had donned her ladybug costume, her body instinctively going into a fighting stance while the room continued to swarm with students around her. She gave a brief scan of the area, trying to locate the perpetrator.

"What in the world is happening?" she muttered beneath her breath. Still, another cursory glance didn't bring any luck with finding what exactly was causing all the riot . She began to wonder if this was just a false alarm — maybe something technical really was going on with the wires. But, no, that couldn't be it. Her gut instincts told her that there was definitely something wrong.

She was a lot of things, but she wasn't one to ignore her instinctual side, especially when, time and time again, it had never proved to be anything but practical.

In the midst of it all, she felt a brisk tap on her shoulder. She whirled around with her fists already outstretched, but then breathed out a sigh of relief when she realized it was only Chat Noir.

He grinned, ears flopping just the slightest bit. "Looking ravishing as always, I see."

Marinette bounced on her heels. She could already feel her patience leaking out — she wanted a good a fight, and a good fight that lasted long, too. "Any idea of what's happening?"

"From what I've picked up," he answered, pointing at the exit, "Chloe angered someone —"

" _Again_?"

"Shocking, I know." His remark was dry as gleam of amusement appeared in his eyes. "Whoever it is has been akumatized to steal forms of electricity straight from the source."

"Electricity?" Marinette glanced up again. "We need to get outside right now."

"Way ahead of you, m'lady." He was already slipping past the mass of students with his feline-like agility, making his way out of the exit.

Marinette kept up a steady pace alongside him. When they burst through the double doors, a cool rush of air hit their faces. Overhead, wisps of purple and pink clouds were dusted against the darkening sky. The sun hung dangerously low to the horizon.

Marinette whipped out her yo-yo and slung it over a building across the school, zip-lining to the top with Chat hot on her heels, pouncing up the exterior of the architecture with his razor sharp claws.

But even a quick scan around the city from this height brought no clue of the akumatized villain's whereabouts.

"Any idea of where he — or she — went?"

Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Chat twirling his tail as he surveyed the streets below.

"There!" He inclined both ears to one of the intersecting streets by way of pointing. "You see those streetlamps? They're flickering off one by one. If we follow them —"

"It'll lead us right to Hawkmoth's victim," Marinette finished, trading a quick look of excitement with Chat.

Together, they swung down from the building and raced down the streets.

"We need to hurry before it gets too dark," Marinette told Chat as she launched herself from one streetlamp to the next with her ever extending yo-yo.

"You know, my day just isn't complete without akumatized villains trying to terrorize the city."

"Well, we are Paris's heroes —"

"And we've sworn to protect them, blah blah. I know. The fame is great, I'll give you that." Chat slid his boot-clad feet against the gravel to avoid colliding with a gawking passerby. "Seeing my magnificent face on the news is enough to put even _me_ under a spell."

"Is that so?"

"Of course." He flashed his pearly whites, whizzing past her. "But I'm just saying. These petty villains pop up at the most inconvenient of times."

She couldn't really argue with that. As they followed close behind the streetlamps, she felt almost glad for the intervention between her and Adrian. There was just something uplifting about being in a costumed suit, something _exhilarating_ about being free from her clumsy, stumbling alter ego and in a state where adrenaline coursed through her veins like a gush of fresh air. In this state, she didn't have to worry about stumbling over her words.

She wasn't particularly upset to have an excuse to go after Parisian villains, either. After all, she wasn't in any hurry to stick her feet back into those monstrous heels.

She was just about to wind her way around another block when Chat abruptly grabbed her by the wrist, twirling her over to his side like she was some off-kilter ballerina.

"Chat, if this is one of your horrible ways of professing your love in the middle of the street —"

"Actually, m'lady," he interjected, one clawed finger raised towards a cluster of buildings, "I was just going to tell you that all the city lights are also being dimmed."

"Oh." Marinette desperately tried to regain her composure by clearing her throat. She took a large step away from the smirking boy and glanced away.

Then she shook her head, his words registering through her. She glanced up at the buildings around them. He was right. The entire city of Paris was being drained of its light, leaving countless towers and houses dark. The sun had already sunk down, leaving just the barest hint of orange light by the horizon, but she knew it wouldn't be long before the whole of Paris would eventually become void of light.

Civilians from everywhere were spilling out into the streets, bellowing out surprised yells. Cars honked and swerved. In the distance, police sirens came to life.

From her peripherals, Marinette spotted a flash of light flitting by.

Chat swivelled his gaze around to follow it. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" he asked.

"I'm seeing what you're seeing," Marinette confirmed, readying her yo-yo to launch.

The flitting light paused long enough for her to put together the perpetrator's akumatized costume — a fitted, static-yellow suit that clung to a distinctly male figure and a lightning bolt pendant attached to his collar. Along his fingertips sat static-y balls of light.

Chat gave an appreciative whistle. "That's one of the coolest things I've ever seen."

"How cool will it be when he injures innocent people in the middle of all this?"

He pretended to think about it. "Considerably less cool."

Together, they advanced, Chat covering for her while Marinette arced her yo-yo and latched it onto the villain.

He twisted out of it before she could even blink, a high-pitched laughter ripping through his throat.

"Defeating me won't be that easy. I'm the Electroid!" With another howl of laughter, he flung himself onto one of the lamp poles and placed a palm right onto the light bulb, swiftly draining it's power until no light remained.

Chat snorted. "Very original. I wonder how many brain cells it took Hawkmoth to come up with that one."

"You dare insult me?" The Electroid shrieked. He hopped off the post, a spray of sparks popping in his wake.

A cocky grin appeared on Chat's face as he curled his fingers towards himself, egging the villain on.

"I'll distract him!" he called out. "You go do your super thing."

Rolling her eyes, Marinette swung for the Electroid, opting for a swift kick to his legs. He stumbled, but used the momentum of it to shoot out a rope of electricity at her and coiling it around her arms, preventing her from using her yo-yo again.

"Get your paws off the lady!" With a swipe of his claws, Chat pounced onto the Electroid's back.

 _A little too late,_ Marinette thought.

She struggled against the coils of ropes encasing her, but it was mostly in vain. She was locked down. Her arms weren't even able to budge, and she didn't dare try to hobble forward in fear of losing her balance.

Across from her, Chat was still hanging onto the Electroid's back, pegging him with derisive insults in order to keep his attention long enough to loosen the hold he had on Marinette. That plan, however, seemed to be backfiring.

"Look, bugaboo!" Chat sent her a charming smile despite the awkward position she was currently straining in. "I'm doing the Macarena on his spine!"

"You — you pesky feline!" The villain snarled in anger, although his tone indicated that not all of his energy of was put into the jeer; most of it was divided toward Marinette.

"Wow, my delicate ears. Did your mom ever teach you —"

He was suddenly bashed against the head with a wave of electrifying light. Choking out a gasp, he awkwardly slipped off the side of the villain's back and stumbled to the ground.

"Chat!" Marinette cried out. A surge of anger and something else, something that stabbed tiny pinpricks into her heart, rushed over her at the sight of his immobile body sprawled across the darkened asphalt, his tail twitching only once before settling limply against the ground.

But she allowed her roiling emotions to last for only a second, quickly replacing it with grim determination. She hopped along the concrete, remaining still beneath the rope bindings before tilting herself over. As soon as she collided side-first against the ground, she rolled, careening towards the Electroid like a bowling ball.

He shot more of his lightning balls at her, but the renewed rush of adrenaline in her veins paired with her anxiety-ridden need to check up on Chat made her reflexes quicker, allowing her to dodge his vicious attacks and knocking him down like a pin.

She rolled once more, feeling her arms straining tightly by her sides and her breaths becoming shallower, pooling into the air around her in hurried rasps. The electrified ropes binding her were cutting off her oxygen supply — she had only a few minutes, maybe even less than that, to tug herself free from them before she sank into a pit of unconsciousness.

Swearing under her breath, she propped herself up just in time to see the akumatized villain scrambling off the ground himself, expression momentarily dazed.

She met his gaze. His sneer was just as sharp and blinding as the crackling light he wielded. She needed to use her lucky charm — _now_ — but her arms were tied down. It wouldn't work. Not when she was incapable of reaching for the yo-yo strapped against her waist.

A few feet away, she could make out Chat's face still planted to the ground, his limbs splayed out before him in a comically starfish position. Had they not been in a situation where impending doom seemed to be on the verge of unleashing upon them, Marinette would've found his stance somewhat endearing.

If only there was a way to get to him and make sure he was all right without getting hit by the Electrifier's attacks. Then Chat could help her slip out from the villain's hold and, well, voila. Together, they could free the akuma from the victim, Paris would be safe, and Marinette could go back to the dance with a glimmer of pride settling inside her at yet another job well done.

It was a terrible realization, knowing how much she depended on Chat. She needed him just as much as he needed her — they were a team that worked well together. A _duo_. And this akumatized villain? He _knew_ that. He knew their defences were lower when one of them was booted off the team.

With his eyes now narrowed on her earrings, the Electrifier prowled unsettlingly close to Chat's motionless body. "Ah, yes. You're helpless without your little sidekick around, aren't you?"

A second before Marinette could launch out a retort in his defense, Chat began to stir. A groan escaped past his lips.

"Who are you calling sidekick?" he demanded as he attempted to shove himself off the asphalt. "I'll show you what a sidekick is."

"Chat," Marinette called out, relief bursting through her like a bucket of fresh water. "Are you okay?"

"I have a spectacularly painful bruise somewhere on my face, but nothing that a kiss won't be able to fix." Sliding a wry grin her way, he gave a suggestive lift of his brows. "You feeling up to the task, m'lady?"

Marinette resisted rolling her eyes. If Chat was making flirty commentary in the middle of a fight, then he was more than okay. And although she would never admit it out loud, the sight of him not laying vulnerable and motionless on the ground lifted a huge weight she didn't even know she had. In fact, she would've laughed, too, if she didn't end up wheezing against the tight restraints.

"Hold on, LB." Snatching his staff a few feet away from him, Chat snapped it into its full length before swinging his way over to the Electroid, narrowly missing a crackling ball of light aimed at his jaw.

As another blast was thrown at him, Chat ducked under it with the kind of agility that reminded Marinette of smooth butter, one of his legs outstretched before him in a vaguely threatening gesture. Before the Electroid could pinpoint him long enough to get a clear shot, Chat managed to scissor out a kick to the villain's side.

Ears flopping, the green-eyed boy gave a loud whoop. "Now that," he said, making his way to Marinette, "is what I call a side kick! _Kittycat_ style."

As soon as he reached Marinette's side and used his Cataclysm to tug off the restraints, she kicked back onto her legs, ignoring the screaming pain shooting through her limbs.

"Be ready," she told Chat as she reached for her yo-yo. "I'm going to use my lucky charm."

Her partner's mouth was pulled up into a razor sharp grin. "Bugaboo, when have I never been ready?"


End file.
